The Hunt and the Chase
by Asmodeus Black
Summary: Is it possible for the psychotic Ramsay to love? Will he finally feel something for his betrothed or will she end up as another chew toy for him to reward his hounds with after a good hunt.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except obvious OC's. Everything else belongs to George. R. R. Martin.**

 **Author's note: This is my first Ramsay fic, if it seems way to OOC let me know. I haven't read the books yet so this will mostly go by the TV series** **Constructive criticism is very welcome!**

 **Happy Reading!**

 **The hunt**

The hounds of Ramsay Bolton, trailed after their master. Blood dried in their fur and around the fine whiskers of their muzzles. The blood of the bastard's latest victim. Myranda and Ramsay wandered hand in hand down the now familiar path of the Godswoods of Winterfell. The thrill of the hunt left them thriving with life. The adrenaline still flowed freely as they walked leisurely to their new home. Of course Ramsay had no idea of what awaited him at home. Some may call it an offer of marriage. Ramsay would think of it as a new toy. A new play thing for him to terrorise and torment.

 **Elspeth Black's POV**

The sight of Winterfell finally came into sight. The Bolton banner could be seen even from this distance. My patience had begun to wane the more stiff and cramped my legs became from the long ride from the black mountains. Still I did not know why my father had brought me here. Only that the Lord Roose Bolton had sent a raven requesting his presence and apparently, my own as well. I was insanely suspicious. The rumours and my imagination gnawed at my mind. The Bolton's were truly terrifying people. I had only met them once or twice when I was younger. The memory wasn't distinctive in anyway, though I remembered Roose Bolton all too well.

…

The gates opened with a loud groan. Our horses trotted into the courtyard, the pounding of hooves against the earth alerting them to our arrival. Snow littered every corner of the landscape and Bolton banners hung on the old stone walls. A shudder ran down my spine in delight at the light breeze that fluttered in my cloak. But this was the north and winter is coming. As the Starks are… or were often fond of saying. I recognised Lord Bolton by the grim smile he presented us with upon our arrival. Next to him stood a rather pudgy women, which must have been his wife. Fat Walda. Though I didn't recognise the young man behind him. He obviously wasn't a servant as they had stood off to the side in a formation of sorts. I pulled on the reigns to my horse, halting it behind fathers. The guards stopping shortly behind me.

A rather young stable boy helped me down from my saddle. He was thin and ragged. I staggered a little but quickly regained my balance. My hood kept most of my face hidden from any prying eyes. Which was a lot. My father, Esmond of house Black linked his arm with mine. We approached the Bolton's will caution. I was wary of his intentions but I sensed father knew exactly why we were here. The fact that he did not disclose the reason made me somewhat anxious.

"Lord Esmond. I welcome you and your daughter." Roose said in welcome, I couldn't help but instantly feel intimidated by this man.

"Thank you." Father bowed his head while I curtsied in return.

"May I introduce my son, Ramsay Bolton." Lord Bolton said strongly. The young man with dark hair that I had noticed earlier stepped forward. His crystal blue eyes pierced me alone. Only I was not paying attention. I could feel a gaze on me from the side, where I noted a very pretty servant girl was staring at me. I could detect jealousy and spitefulness in her eyes. I stared back, my green eyes darkened at the sight of her. She masked her gaze so that it didn't appear unfriendly yet it wasn't welcoming either but it mattered not. Hopefully we would be leaving this dreary place soon enough.

"An honour to finally meet you, my lady." My attention was snapped away by his lovely voice. He grabbed my hand gently and kissed it with a softness I did not expect, it momentarily took me off guard. I realised I could easily fall in love with this man. But there was a malicious and deceitful glint flashed in his eyes that I couldn't comprehend at all. Though I hid it well, I was confused. Had he been expecting me for some time now? What was this about?

"Thank you." I said quietly, withdrawing my hand. Why was he being so gentle? Perhaps I shouldn't pay so much attention to rumours.

"Let us go inside. You both must be tired." Roose said after carefully watching our exchange.

'Yes, of course." Father answered. He was a gaunt yet lean man. Streaks of grey ran through his copper blond hair. His hair colour mirrored mine almost exactly, minus the grey of course. My hands stung even through the leather of my gloves. But regardless I trailed after our host.

…

Dinner in the evening became a boring and tedious affair. Roose and father talked mostly of politics and what not. I grew bored of that subject almost as quickly as it started. I concentrated on eating my food, which I had barely touched. At the corner of my eye I could sense Ramsay looking at me. Though he had tried to be charming previously before dinner, I however was not fooled. His body language contradicted his supposed charming and charismatic façade. I tuned back into the conversation between Esmond and Roose.

"What do you think of that proposal, dear?" I blanched at father's sudden statement.

"Proposal?" I asked inviting him to elaborate. I hadn't been paying attention in the slightest to their conversation.

"Yes. You are betrothed to my son. Thus is your purpose here." Roose answered with a touch of impatience.

I felt my mouth fall agape slightly in shock.

I heard a light chuckle behind me. I glanced at the source of noise. _Ramsay._ Suddenly I saw him in a new light. I turned back to my plate and cut up the mutton that was dished onto my plate. I looked everywhere except at anyone at the table and the man that visibly shrank in the corner. I said nothing.

The Black family were powerful allies to the north, along with the Manderly's, Mormont's and so on. That was the point. Political power. The Bolton's alone couldn't defeat the entire north if all the houses banded together. That's why this supposed marriage was beneficial to them. I cut the meat up with sour vigour. After a time I gave up with polite dinner conversation.

"May I be excused?" I asked absentmindedly.

"Yes of course. It would be wise to get used to the prospect of your new _arrangements_." Roose Bolton said with a ring of finality. I did not want to marry the bastard! Even now I wanted to wipe the happy smirk off his stupid smug face. Argh. I march through the freezing corridors, towards my chambers.

…

This betrayal of father came as a shock to me. How could he marry me off to a Bolton! And the psychotic Ramsay Snow of all people! I remember father teaching me to use a bow and how to dance. I felt hurt. I looked out into the bustling courtyard outside. But that had all changed, father had changed after the death of my mother. Though we had greatly supported the Starks that once resided in these halls. We were once one of the many great houses before my brothers died in the recent battle with the Lannisters and the young wolf. I was all that was left of House Black.

An impulsive surge of anger pulsed through me. I swung my hand back and slammed it into the nearest breakable object. Of course in my anger it never occurred to me how utterly stupid that was. Blood streaked down my hand and wrist. I hissed in painful satisfaction. Sure it hurt but it made me feel at least a little better. I will throttle the bastard in his sleep. Wrangle is neck.

"Now, now we can't have your beauty marred with bruises and such just yet, my sweet. I think we should save that for _after_ the wedding!" my breathing stuttered. I turned to face Ramsay, _my betrothed_ who smiled maniacally from the doorway. The blood left my face as the sudden realisation flooded my thoughts. I was going to marry this monster.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except obvious OC's. Everything else belongs to George. R. R. Martin.**

 **Author's note: chapter two! Thanks to all the readers and follows/favourites! You guys are super amazing! Let me know if you think this story is worth continuing.**

 **Happy Reading!**

"I am not marrying you!" I said in defiance. Regardless of what arrangements had been made. I would rather live in squalor than marry this beast.

"Your wrong. You will marry me and there is nothing you can do or say to stop it." He continued to mock me. He was enjoying this! His attention was suddenly diverted downwards. I had momentarily forgot about my injured hand. Droplets of blood fell quickly from the wound onto the stone floor. I distractedly played with the crimson liquid against my pale skin in shock. I never anticipated on it bleeding so much. Before I could as much as blink, he had his hands around my injured one. Rough, grey fabric poked out from under his fingers. He was applying pressure to my hand to stem the bleeding. I watched on in fascination.

"Do it again." He goaded. I glared at him and snatched my hand away. The bloody fabric just about soaked to its every fibre. It had stopped bleeding considerably.

I sneered in distaste but said nothing. I sat back into the wooden chair next to the small window, impatiently waiting for him to leave. Only he made no indication of leaving anytime soon. So I ignored him and gently cleaned my hand up with the bloody rag and picked up a book about north of the wall that I had left earlier on the table. It was very interesting, except it was something I had read too many times to count. I signed as a small droplet of blood ran down my hand and landed on the cream white page of my worn book. I got up to fetch a bandage of sorts that had been packed in my trunk.

Something must have caught Ramsay's attention as I moved my neatly packed clothes and what not around because not a moment later he was pulling my bow from the bottom. I said nothing to him yet I still watched him from the corner of my eyes as he inspected my bow. It was handmade by myself. It was my pride and most treasured possession. No jewel or gown could be equivalent to its sentimental value. He didn't seem to mind invading my personal space. But this was his home.

… **Ramsay…**

Ramsay inspected the elegantly carved wooden bow. It was strong, yet flexible. Its craftsmanship was admirable. He ran his fingers across the wood. Oh how'd he like to hunt with this. The thought sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, barely masking his deign. His curiosity flared.

"I made it." Elspeth answered quietly as she concentrated on finishing the dressing on her hand. A wide smile spread across his face. He wouldn't admit that she had a talent. No, where was the fun in that.

"Do you like hunting?" he asked innocently yet a hint of excitement was discernible. Elspeth caught on instantly. She knew something was up when he mentioned hunting. She saw something in his smirk that was almost cruel.

"Depends what you're hunting I guess. Though I prefer larger game myself." As the words left her mouth his smiled widened. His teeth almost became visible.

"Perhaps we shall hunt later on… after we marry of course. Two days from now." He was beyond curious what her reaction was to hunting his whores. Perhaps she would even like it. Unlikely he thought. Only Myranda had ever understood of what the chase of the hunt truly felt like.

Elspeth blanched. So soon? She swallowed nervously. She did not want this. But she knew it was non-negotiable. This marriage was going to transpire whether she liked it or not.

… **Esmond…**

"She would be valuable. She may be quiet but she is no fool." Esmond warned.

"She seems intelligent enough. Though, rather innocent. " Roose replied, at least he seemed more interested in their conversation than the lord sitting across from him.

"As you say. I would not be so easily convinced. She has a violent streak when provoked." Esmond answered. He had no desire to subject his daughter to marriage so soon. But it had to be done.

"Good. Ramsay and her should get along fine." Roose replied, though he doubted they would. He didn't believe Ramsay capable of loving another.

"When will the ceremony commence?" Esmond asked, he wasn't interested really. But he wanted to return home to his wife. Where they could mourn the death of their sons together.

"In the next few days I would imagine. Ramsay lacks patience." Roose remained stoic and grim. His wife sat beside him, forgotten. She drank deeply from her goblet. A droplet of wine escaping her plump lips. Her fat tongue darted out to catch it. The two lords talked little for the rest of their meal. It was a quiet affair once Ramsay left, shortly after Elspeth.

…

The cold night had descended on Winterfell. A few servants and guards crept around the shadows of the courtyard. Elspeth had deemed it safe for her to wonder by herself. The more she had to do with people the more she came to dislike them. Though she preferred her own company over anyone's. She silently trailed down the corridors. The moon light seeped in from the windows, alighting her path. Suddenly she heard footsteps from behind her. She heard not clinking of armour, obviously not a guard. But the soft rubbing of leather could be heard. Elspeth stepped into the shadows of an alcove. Her breathing carefully turned shallow. She did not trust anyone here so she had brought her bone handled dagger as a precaution. The shadow of a man could be seen then the very person themselves. The darkness of their hair easily recognisable. It was Ramsay. How curious.

Elspeth decided to follow him through the darkened corridors until they came outside. Elspeth stayed inside the halls and watched where he went. The pale snow crunched under the soles of his well-made leather boots. He looked very handsome under the light from the moon, which dimly reflected off the snow that had settle on the flat ground. Ramsay opened a door and went down a flight of stairs that seemed to go on forever. Elspeth wasn't stupid she knew he was going to what she assumed was the dungeons.

Though Elspeth by far was certainly much more interested in another part of the walls of the enclosure of Winterfell. It was heavily lit with candles. She diverted her attention from the direction Ramsay went and moved towards it. The closer she got the more she could hear noises inside. She backed away from the door as soon as she heard what obviously were hounds. From what could be told there were a lot of them. She cautiously stepped inside the room. The gates were unlocked. Though the moment she stepped into the enclosure. The hounds went deathly silent. Soft whimpering could be heard from them as she investigated further. They were afraid of her. Why? she had no idea. Nonetheless she found it amusing. Though what she came across at the end of the room, in one of the very last cages. Shocked her somewhat. There was a man that she recognised from the dining hall. Upon noticing her presence he whimpered just like the other pathetic dogs in here. His stuttered muttering was undistinguishable.

"I see you have discovered my prize." Whispered a familiar voice. Their breathe created a fog in the chilly air.

 **I would love to know what you think so far! If you think I could improve in any way I would also like to know. Do you like multiply point of views or just one?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except obvious OC's. Everything else belongs to George. R. R. Martin.**

 **Author's Note: Thank you so much to the guest reviewer! Your wish is my command. Glad to have some feedback** **thank you readers that followed and favorited this story recently. It means a lot and I apologise for any spelling mistakes. Ps I took a few lines from the TV show in this chapter.**

"What did you do to him?" my voice trembled slightly in distinct fascination. This felt so surreal like it should only exist in the ramblings of someone's mind.

"I trained him." Ramsay replied. He sounded disappointed almost, he had wanted to scare her. She intrigued him. He did not have the same effect on her as he did others.

"You _trained_ him?" I asked in quiet disbelief. I could only imagine what it had taken to break this creature. He was no longer a man.

"Yes. I trained him. He was a slow learner at first, but he adapted." Dread settled in the pit of my stomach. I felt my heart rate quicken at the thought of marrying Ramsay. He was a monster. Yet I could easily see myself loving him. Perhaps I should have him on a lead.

I jumped when his warm breathe hit my neck, closer than I had expected he would be. I had a bad feeling about this. He obviously knew I had been following him. I could feel his arms snake around my waist. I deliberately kept my breathing even so he wouldn't notice how uncomfortable he was making me. Just as I was about to break away from his grasp he shoved me against the end wall, so that my back was pressed firmly against the stone. The coldness seeped from the stone through my dress, chilling me to the bone. I shivered. His hand slowly rubbed up my thigh. My dress coming with it. I violently shoved his hands away from him. Though this did not deter him, it only seemed to incite him even more.

"Stop." I said, pushing him away. I could feel him smirking against the skin of my neck before roughly kissing it once more. His sharp teeth lightly nipping my skin. Though still he did not stop. An idea crossed my mind. I acted quickly and kneed him in the crotch. He yelled out in pain and loosened his grip on my upper arms. I could hear his ragged breathes come out in pained puffs as I ran from him.

"You little bitch." He gasped out. I continued running out of the gate from him. I never stopped once until I reached my door. I threw it open and crashed inside, slamming the small deadbolt in place. I dragged every heavy piece of furniture that I could across the room to barricade the only entrance into my chambers. Perhaps I panicked a little too much. I kicked my boots off then jumped onto my bed and crawled to the head board. I waited impatiently, my ears strained to hear any sort of noise outside. But the only sound that could be heard was the soft crackling of the fire that had been lighted in the fireplace.

After what felt like forever, but could only have been a few minutes I slid out of bed. I lit a candle or two and changed out of my dress and changed into something more appropriate for sleeping in. I anxiously looked out my window. It was eerily quiet and still. It was late judging by the angle of the shadows in the night. I crawled back into bed and hoped for a restful sleep. Though it was unlikely. I had winded him out of luck. Next time I doubt I would be so lucky. This wasn't over.

…

I kept my eyes glued to the edge of the table as _he_ came into the dining room. Ramsay pulled the chair out beside me. He said nothing as he sat down which only made me even more tense. Walda sat across from us though she hadn't picked up on the tension. Roose or my own father were nowhere to be seen. I glanced at Ramsay from under my lashes. He was staring right at me. A malicious glint shone in his eyes which made my stomach churn nervously.

"Good morning, mother! My lady." He greeted, he seemed overly cheerful. I could see the falseness in his broad smile. Walda smiled at him charmingly. I just nodded my head once in acknowledgment.

"Not a morning person I see…" Ramsay said to me almost childlike. I shrugged. He didn't seem happy with my unresponsiveness.

"I hope you are comfortable with your new chambers, my lady." He asked, he was trying to draw a verbal response out of me.

"Yes. Thank you my lord." I replied without ever looking at him. I stubbornly refused. I knew he was going to make me regret what happened last night. He was unpredictable and I hated it.

"Are you well, lady Elspeth? You look very pale." Walda asked kindly, she was on her third serving of breakfast already. I had almost agreed that I was unwell but then the thought of Ramsay following me and cornering me again was unsettling.

"I am very well, thank you." I weakly smiled in assurance. She bought it easily. Before another word could be spoken the door was flung open, Roose Bolton then entered and sat down beside his wife.

"Morning, my lord. Is my father still in his chambers" I greeted. He nodded his head once but otherwise said nothing. Sometimes Esmond didn't come out of his room for days. The joys of having a loner as a father. I then put a piece of pork in my mouth so I wouldn't have to talk. Roose and Ramsay talked about the upcoming wedding, I instantly tuned out of that conversation. It was a day away that was enough information for me.

"It must be strange being so far away from home." Walda suddenly said to me. I smiled slightly at the thought of home.

"Yes it is! It's much warmer here though." I said conversationally. Though the fort I had lived in with my parents is situated on the black mountains, we were one of the only houses that far north. It always snowed. Even the summers were freezing. I loved it. The snow was comforting to me. I guess I could be glad of one thing, the Bolton's were northerners, but still they lived south of me.

"Oh really! It must get very cold." Walda seemed very interested in my home. She had probably never been that far north.

"And very beautiful too. It was said that there was a great fire on the mountains, its destruction left the landscape black form the coal, then it froze solid and it has remained the same since for over thousands of years." I said, I particularly remember watching the sun rise once. The glaciers and ice shimmered in the morning light like black crystal. Walda seemed dazed from the idea.

"I shall have to take you there one day." I said sweetly.

"I would like that." She replied, only then did we notice that Roose and Ramsay had stopped talking and were listening to our conversation. My cheeks became flushed at the attention and I returned to eating. I felt something flutter against my leg then. Ramsay's hand glided across the pale warm fabric and over my thigh. I remained unfazed. He was only trying to make me uncomfortable. I grabbed his hand and threateningly bent a few of his fingers back. I knew I was hurting him from the sharp intake of breath. I let his fingers go before I broke any. We wouldn't want that. Not just yet anyway.

…

"Walda and I have some good news, since we're all together." Roose said with a hint of a smirk on his thin lips. He looked to his wife as if encouraging her to speak.

"We're going to have a baby." Walda said happily. Ramsay visibly froze, his wine goblet halfway to his lips. The blueness of his eyes turned to ice. Clearly he wasn't going to say anything.

"That's wonderful!" I said a wide gleeful smile formed on my face as I realised Ramsay was insecure about being bastard born.

"From the way she's carrying, maester Wolkan says it looks like a boy." Roose continued, though he looked at Ramsay when he said this. He was clearly enjoying himself and so was I.

"Please excuse me, I must go check on my father." I said deciding to break the awful tension. Walda smiled naively at me while Roose and Ramsay continued to stare at one another.

"Of course, my lady." Walda answered when Roose did not. I tucked my chair back in and almost delightedly skipped to my father's chambers.

 **Please tell me what you think! Until next time.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except obvious OC's. Everything else belongs to George. R. R. Martin.**

 **Author's Note: Thank you to the all the reader's follows/favourites and to** _ **Scout out and snapsnap24131**_ **for the reviews! Feel free to note any spelling mistakes.**

 **Happy Reading!**

I skipped merrily to the chambers my father had been staying in since our arrival. I knocked twice then entered. His room was very similar to mine, only a little larger and seemed much darker. He sat at a carved table. His long pale fingers turned a page in a large volume. He appeared completely engrossed in what was written on the pages. Like me, he shared a mutual love for books and literature. I hated needlework, I always get my fingers with the pin. A silver goblet that was filled with a wine that almost appeared bloody in colour sat near him on the surface of the table.

"Father? You missed breakfast…" I said softly as not to surprise him. I gently placed my hand on his thin shoulder. He jumped a little.

"Elspeth! I – well I got caught up in reading. I hope lord Bolton did not take offense to my absence." he greeted me with a tired smile. His health seemed to wane in the past few months. It worried me.

"No, he didn't." I reassured. He patted my hand gently in relief.

"I didn't tell you before. I didn't tell you about your betrothal to the Bolton's heir. I hope you can forgive me. You are just as stubborn as me, I knew you would never go through with it. It was the only way." He stressed. I could never be angry at him.

"I could never be angry with you father. Even monsters need to be loved." I said, taking a seat across from him. All though Ramsay was a different kind of monster. One that I knew would be hard to care for in any way.

"As you say." He replied, his book captured and took his attention prisoner again. I glanced out his tiny bedroom window. A few ravens flew past, some even settled on the window sill and in the godswood. I watched in curiosity. Birds were beautiful creatures. The dull light shone softly of their dark feathers.

A timid knock on the door alerted my attention. I got up to answer it, knowing my father wouldn't have paid it any attention. An old woman peered into my face. She held a platter of food that was covered.

"Compliments to Lord Esmond from lady Walda." The kind old woman said in an old raspy voice. Her greying hair was pulled back into a pleasant and tidy hairdo.

"Thank you. Please kindly thank her for me." I said sincerely to her. She smiled faintly and hobbled back down the hallway. I moved a few books and other objects around the table to make space then placed the plate onto the table.

"Father, Lady Bolton sent you food. It would be rude not to eat It." immediately, the thought of poison crossed my mind. But that wasn't how the Bolton's operated. Poison was a woman's tool or a cowards. The Bolton's were certainly not cowards and Walda seemed to naïve for its use. He sighed like a pertinent child.

"Yes. Yes, I'll get there eventually. " He said not really paying attention to me. I stared at him very seriously for a few moments until he finally glanced at me. He huffed in resignation.

"Fine I will. But before you go give that set of daggers to your betrothed, as a gift. I'm sure he would like them." He mumbled before cutting off and placing a bit of honeyed sausage into his mouth with his knife. I didn't approve of that. Knives weren't forks. But I gave up, at least he was eating something. There was a flat wooded box on the table. Its hinges a little rusted but still worked. I picked it up and checked inside. There were indeed two exquisite daggers placed inside the red velvet. Valyrian steel, I recognised. The handles curved and twisted with black leather and in some places, bone. The pommel, a black three eyed raven. I realised in dismay that these were heirlooms of our house. They were very elegant. Too good for the bastard snow.

"That plate had better be cleared when I come back." I said sternly. Though I didn't question father on the daggers. He muttered his agreeance while returning to his book. But he still ate his food. Satisfied, I moved back to the door and exited. I half expected Ramsay to be slinking about though he wasn't. I knew it was highly likely that he would 'bump' into me at some point on my way back to my chambers. So that's where I headed. As the door to my chambers came into sight I sighed in relief. Still no sight of Ramsay. I turned the handle to my door. My stomach twisted as I did so. A feeling of anxiousness gnawed at me. I had little idea as to why. But it explained itself as I stepped foot into the warm room. Of course he would. Ramsay sat in one of the arm chairs next to the fire. He nursed a goblet of wine in his hand.

"What a delightful surprise to see you, my dear! I almost thought you wouldn't show." He smiled cheerfully, though his eyes were a different story.

"I apologise that our encounter was cut short last night." He feigned hurt. He downed the rest of his wine and stood.

"I'm not." I said simply and walked over to the table setting the box on the surface. Then thought better of it. I should give it to him now as a distraction from any malicious intent.

"Why are you here?" I asked, I tried not to let my aggravation show.

"Is it wrong for me to want to get to know my betrothed before I marry her. Which I might remind you is tomorrow." He asked amusedly. I looked at him incredulously. We had a lifetime for that. I never believed a word he uttered.

"I am to give you a gift." He said after I said nothing. He passed a parcel that was wrapped in velvet. I unwrapped it to see what it was. A wedding dress.

"As am I, thank you Ramsay." And as much as I hated it, I kissed him gently on the cheek. He smirked lightly in triumph. I gently put the dress, still mostly wrapped in the velvet on the bed. I thought it inappropriate for him to see it just yet. But its material was a pearly white. Ramsay stood waiting. I reached the dark wooden box that had a raven in flight carved on the lid and passed it to him. A look of puzzlement flashed across his face. He opened it to find the daggers inside. He looked astonished at first. He picked on of them up softly as if never believing it. The dagger would have to be at least half the length of my arm. A cruel smile lit his face, his eyes alight with malice. I shivered involuntarily. But never out of disgust.

"Valyrian steel…" he muttered, mesmerised. He eyes hungrily inspected the fine edges. Bastard, it's probably the most precious thing he's ever seen, let alone touch. And more than he deserved.

"Yes, it's an heirloom of my house." Or it was.

"I will have sheathes made for them." He said quickly, while gently placing it back in its cushioned spot. They most likely haven't seen the light of day in centuries. I watched him warily step forward. I didn't trust him, especially not after last night.

He looked at me then, the expression on his face frightening. I was remotely aware of him moving towards me slowly, as if I wouldn't notice. The silence turned deafening. I reached behind me and felt for the letter opener. It was sharp. Except I didn't have to, not a moment later. Someone rapped impatiently on the door and after no one answered the door opened on its own accord. A servant girl entered. It was the same girl that had been staring at me the moment I got off my horse.

"Myranda!" Ramsay exclaimed.

"My lady, this is the kennel master's daughter. She will be your handmaiden." I cringed internally at this new revelation. I didn't like this _Myranda._ Not at all. I disliked her so much that when she spoke I felt a violent impulse to hit her. Which has never happened before. I almost felt bad. Almost. I looked at the girl then. Even now I could easily spot the jealousy that saturated her gaze. I smirked, but said nothing.

"I will leave you two to It." he said in amusement but clearly wanting to leave. He pushed past her and left. She looked as though she were about to snap at him.

"My lady." She barely forced a curtsy.

"Is there something wrong with your legs?" I asked raising an eyebrow. She smiled as if to mock me.

"No, of course not my lady." Not yet at least. Out of all the servants and I get stuck with her. I best make the most of it. Baiting her would be most amusing.

 **Soo the wedding is in the next chapter! Tell me what you think so far? Are the chapters to short?**

 **Until next time.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except obvious OC's. Everything else belongs to George. R. R. Martin.**

 **Author's Note: Thank you to the all the reader's follows/favourites and to** __ **all the reviews! Feel free to note any spelling mistakes.**

 **...Ramsay…**

"Is she fun?" Locke asked curiously. Ramsay only shrugged vaguely.

"Oh yes, because getting kneed in the balls is great fun!" he replied with heavy sarcasm. Locke laughed whole-heartedly at his friend's _hardship._

"Hm feisty." Locke uttered quietly. Ramsay smirked at the thought. There was a lot of fun to be had with that yet. But he couldn't frighten her just yet, not until after the wedding.

"She couldn't be trusted with a pointy object. Even holding her culinary at the dinner table makes everyone squirm." Ramsay muttered, the thought that his betrothed made his father in the slightest uncomfortable was hilarious. He couldn't help but reminisce how beautiful she was. Especially when she was angry, there was always a dangerous spark in her pretty green eyes.

"She seems… gentle. Innocent almost. "The ragged man said in mild disbelief. Grey streaked his beard and hair. Locke watched with sadistic enjoyment as Reek's fingers shook violently as he prepared Ramsay for his wedding. It was in a few hours. Just to think he would share his chambers with his new wife in that short amount of time.

"I don't know anymore. But I find myself growing impatient for that moment." Ramsay said longingly. A flicker of annoyance passed in his features as Reek moved in his line of sight of the mirror, though he smelt worse than he looked. The leather he wore appeared ashy black in colour and grey furs that covered his shoulders. While his tunic remained a blood red.

… **Elspeth…**

To say that I was nervous would be an understatement. I hadn't even gotten out of bed yet. I stared eerily at the ceiling.

"Getting cold feet milady?" Myranda said, it was more of a statement than a question. So caught up in my thoughts I never even heard her enter the room.

"A little." I answered tonelessly. My head fell lazily back into the soft pillows. I signed softly, this would be the last time I had the luxury of having my own room and being able to simply be alone. My precious solitude.

"What do you want?" I asked softly. I wasn't in the mood for her games.

"Lord Ramsay has ordered me to draw you a bath." She answered, oh I'm sure he did. I was perfectly capable of doing it myself. I didn't believe her. But I left her to it regardless. I was beyond curious why she would come here. Perhaps I could make Ramsay hunt her down in the forest like one of his common whores.

As I looked over to her, she was filling the bath with hot water. The steam rose quickly and disappeared just as rapidly. After a while she called for my attention, the bath was ready. I thanked her, kindly.

She averted her eyes, as I undressed. Not that it fazed me one bit. The soft fabric of my nightdress pooled around my ankles. Stepping away, I stepped into the hot water before I caught a chill. My muscles seemed to melt in the water from relaxation. I had already washed my hair the previous day. So Myranda sat on the wooden stool.

"You are so beautiful." Myranda said almost enviously. Already I didn't like where this was going, but curiosity kept me from stopping her from uttering another word.

"You need to keep him happy. Ramsay gets bored easily. You don't want to end up like the _others_." She says, amusement laced her every syllable. I tuned out completely and when I tuned back in. she spoke about how bodies appeared after the hounds had been at them. She was trying to frighten me I guessed. She wasn't doing a very good job. Though from the little time I had spent around her, I gathered that she loved Ramsay. It was painfully obvious now.

"I wonder…" I interrupted her gently, a thought occurring to me. She seemed annoyed by the way she played with the ends of her hair.

"Yes?" she asked gently, though I could hear the aggravation in her voice. This pleased me.

"I wonder how pretty you will be after the hounds are finished with you." I reached over to her face. Her eyes betrayed her shock. I stroked her cheek almost like a lover would.

"Such pretty skin. I'm sure it would make for a lovely pair of leather gloves. That is of course, if the hounds leave at least a little scrap of you left. " I smiled at her then. I could see strong emotions of fear and denial flash across her face. I abruptly pulled away from her.

"Leave." I said staring at her. The more I looked at her the more appealing the idea became. Myranda quickly stood and hastily left. This wasn't over. Obviously. But I was very serious.

…

I quickly dried myself off as not to catch a chill. I threw undergarments on and marched over to inspect my wedding dress. Walking past the mirror, I looked like a ghost out of some scary story. The length of the dress was made out of layers of pearly white satin, fur made up of the shoulders and ends of the dress where it touched the floor. I shivered slightly and slipped it on. I found it difficult to tie the strings at the back, but I managed. The corset was unneeded, I appeared thin enough as it was. I proceeded to get ready.

After an hour or so. My perfect reflection looked back at me. My hair was pinned partially up and braided. There was nothing more to be done. Even I had to admit, I looked very pretty. But I believe it was mostly the dress.

…

The snow crunched under my shoes as I felt as though I walked to my death. The ceremony passed in a blur. I felt Ramsay's grip tighten on my hand occasionally. Especially now when I had to say the words that would bind me to him forever. I looked to Ramsay who smiled slightly at me as he said the remaining words. Like he knew what was happening to me. It was only when the cheers erupted that I realised it was over. Ramsay's arm clamped around my own and we sauntered off to the feast along with everyone else that had attended the ceremony. Lanterns were lit along the way. Making the path come to life. It had snowed a lot more since yesterday. I couldn't believe I was now officially married. My heart beat increased in mild fear of what would come later. It was no secret that Ramsay was rough almost cruel in bed. Impulses jumped in my head. A man that stood beside me had his sword with him. The thought of stabbing my now husband to death was tempting, overly so. We had come out of the godswood now and were entering the warm halls of Winterfell. Ramsay's hand strayed across my waist. His hands were warm even with gloves on.

The noise and cheering became even louder as the heavy doors opened to the dining hall, to the feast that awaited us. I noticed my father had not come with us. He was nowhere to be seen.

…

"Where ever you go. Whatever you do. You are finally mine and you will certainly know it before the sun rises. "Ramsay said in my ear. To anyone else he may have looked to be whispering certain things only appropriate for me to hear. My heart sped up as Roose Bolton announced the bedding ceremony to begin. Ramsay along with some of his men laughed merrily.

"Don't look so frightened my love!" Ramsay laughed passing me off to a group of men. He had drank too much wine. Ramsay almost skipped to the waiting group which consisted of young ladies. They giggled and blushed, Myranda was amongst them though she did not giggle nor blush. Ramsay submitted almost willingly to the smaller party.

The men which were mostly made up of the bastard boys shouted lewd jokes and comments. A man she vaguely knew as Locke apologised for every ribald jest he made. Though it didn't stop him from making more. My face grew hot and must have appeared crimson with embarrassment. They picked me up with little effort and marched off towards Ramsay's chambers, all the while stripping my gown off as we went. They put me down on the bed, snickering, and looked at me almost in envy. They remarked how lucky lord Bolton was as they left. Booming laughter could be heard moments later as Ramsay himself stumbled into the room naked. His eyes alight with a frightening white fire. I crossed my arms across my chest and swallowed nervously.

"None of that." He said and ripped my arms away. He tightly gripped my wrists to the point of pain and pushed me onto the bed so I was flat on my back. I looked anywhere but at him. I couldn't bear to. He was going to hurt me, I knew it. My septa said it would hurt the first time though. Ramsay almost fell on top of me in his slightly drunken stupor. He kissed me sloppily, not even fully getting my lips. A spark of amusement surged through me. His breath smelt heavily of wine. Maybe I could take advantage of this? His wet lips left an electric sensation at the base of my neck. I gasped. Or maybe not. He let go of my wrists and hungrily grinded himself against me. Then, violently hooked my leg around his waist. I could feel it, the tip of something against the inside of my thigh, I didn't dare look down. I dug my fingers into his back as he rapidly buried himself in my warmth. The pain unimaginable. I silently cried as his thrust quickened to a punishable pace. His hips pounded away until he eventually came to his finish, it left me breathless. I was angry at him, I wanted him to feel my pain. So I bit him hard until I drew blood.

"Ah!" he gave a guttural cry. He pulled away and as he did so I felt a wetness stain the sheets.

 **Ok first time writing smut and I realise I suck at it... But I would certainly like to know what you guys think? Until next time.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except obvious OC's. Everything else belongs to George. R. R. Martin.**

 **Author's Note: Thank you to the all the reader's follows/favourites and to** __ **all the reviews on the last chapter! Feel free to note any spelling mistakes.**

 **Thank you so much to those who reviewed last update! They keep me going. I'm sorry if this chapter is a little late than usual.**

 _ **Deductions-of-Sherlolly**_ __

 _ **Scout out**_ __ __

… **Elspeth...**

Pain. That's what I awoke to from my restless sleep. It was still dark outside, the morning birds not even flying about yet. Deep breathing could be heard beside me on the bed that I now shared with my _husband._ He was sleeping still. My eyes flickered to his weapons belt. Tempting, but the consequences were too great.

I could faintly see my bite mark in the rapidly fading candlelight until after a while I was engulfed in darkness once more. It slowly became lighter outside. I watched the shadows recede from the corners of the room. Glancing at Ramsay, I couldn't help but think how at peace he looked asleep. He seemed innocent almost. I almost wanted to touch him. He unconsciously felt for me, I moved away. I would rather freeze than sleep in the warmth of his arms. Ever. Not matter how cold I got. And right now I was freezing my butt naked self-off.

He seemed to notice my absence as his eyes opened slightly. He was awake. The cruelness and malice seeped from his being once more. Granted he didn't look at me the same maliciousness. But his gaze still unsettled me even now as he sleepily gazed at me.

"Come here. You'll freeze to death." He said quietly, reaching to roughly pull me back flush against him. But I resisted, I really didn't want him touching me. He abruptly sat up. The furs falling to his waist which modestly covered him.

"Elspeth. _Come here."_ I only looked at him in disgust. I wasn't one of his dogs he could order around. So caught up in my hateful thoughts I was too slow at moving away when he grabbed me around the waist and pulled my entire weight to him. He was still naked which made me incredibly uncomfortable. But he was warm to my resentment. My feet and hands were cold, Ramsay's sharp intake of breath could be heard when I placed my cold feet on his legs. Before I knew it I had grudgingly fallen back asleep.

…

The lines of the sentences in my book became blurred the more I daydreamed. Occasionally I would sip my wine. I felt lonely here. I had none, not a friend in the world close to me. This was my third glass of wine in the past hour, I knew I should stop but I ached and there was nothing else to relieve the pain. Bruises littered her arms and a cut adorned her bottom lip. It stung as she indulged in her wine.

The sound of the door opening broke me from my reverie. I put my wine and book down. Of course it was Ramsay. It's not as if he would let me have visitors other than _'Reek'._

The sound of the buckle of a belt coming undone, seemed to ring in my ears. I could feel my pulse speed up.

"Take off your clothes." As the words left his mouth, my blood turned to ice. I wasn't ready for this. The memory of our wedding night still so fresh in my mind. I childishly turned my back to him with my arms crossed. Impatience clouded his eyes. They were a sharp pale blue. Little did he know I had the letter opener hidden on my person. I never bothered putting one of my gowns on, only my dress slip remained. Fear pulsed through my being and with that came impulsiveness. I twirled to face him, as his rough hands rose to touch me, and stabbed him in the thigh. My thoughts turned into a flurry blur. It wouldn't have done much damage, though it would have broken the skin to form a shallow cut. It was just enough to shock him. I bumped into reek on the way who stood beside the door. I slammed it shut before either of them could stop me, then sprinted down the corridor in nothing but my slip to find a suitable hiding place. His mad laughter could be heard, it echoed. It was becoming a game of hide and seek. A game which Ramsay would no doubt ultimately win. The hunt was on.

…

I was careful of people seeing me. I stuck to the shadows the more the night descended. It was unbelievably cold. But I didn't shiver only from the chilliness of the night air. The thought of Ramsay finding me was frightening enough. It motivated me to keep hidden. He would without a doubt eventually find me. He must have had his bastard boys looking for me, they passed me too much for it to be a coincidence at this time of night. They tauntingly called my name.

"There you are." Ramsay exclaimed cheerfully. He dragged me to him in a tight embrace.

"No." I said breathlessly, trying to stop him from touching me. His bruising grip began to hurt as it enclosed around me like a vice. I didn't even know he was there.

"You've been very naughty. Very naughty indeed. How do you think I should punish such wicked behaviour? You left your husband in want." He tutted. I could feel him smiling into my hair. Smugness radiated off his being. I kicked him in the leg where I had stabbed him. I hoped it hurt. I remained silent causing him to sign in discontent. But in retaliation he groped my breast harshly.

"Fine." He whined when not even a small whimper could be heard. He gripped me tightly and picked me off my feet. I struggled in his arms the whole way back to our chambers, much to his amusement. I could see it in his eyes. He had enjoyed this. I panicked as we neared the chambers door.

…

 _What a game_! Ramsay thought excitedly. It had taken him ours to locate her. He knew that Elspeth wouldn't have left the fort. Especially in nothing but her slip. He wouldn't fuck her tonight. She should think of it as a reward, Ramsay thought as he threw her back on their bed. She scrambled to the head board. He rather liked her like that, except he should let her rest tonight. But then she did look rather ravishing in this state. Wild eyes and in nothing but her underclothes. No she should not have run from him. Though he wouldn't punish her for it, tonight should be special. It was after all a reward for amusing him.

Ramsay stripped down to his breaches, then walked over to the basin to wash his face and neck. After patted himself dry he snaked over to the bed where his lovely wife buried herself amongst the pillows. He huffed this would take patience. He loved the idea that she was scared of him in that moment, he revelled that she had bitten him. That she had been rough with him. He would at least try to be gentle with her. He would make his wife participate this time, only because he knew she would hate him more for it.

Ramsay crawled onto the bed and lay beside her. He looked almost sympathetic while he placidly stroked her hip. Elspeth new there was a purpose to why he was doing this. But what purpose exactly she couldn't tell. Placing a soft kiss on her temple, he picked up her hands and softly guided her fingers to the laces of his breaches. He silently threatened Elspeth if she didn't comply. Her fingers shook as she pulled on the laces unsurely, undoing them shakily.

"Touch it. Look at my cock." he in a volatile whispered, shifting his hips slightly. Elspeth glanced down but quickly looked away. A blush crept onto her pale cheeks as she cautiously withdrew her hands. Ramsay growled and forcefully brought her hands back. Her long fingers edging into his pants until she met something big… and soft.

"Good girl… now pull my breaches down." She did as she was told and pulled his pants further down his legs. He kicked them off onto the floor. She stared at his crotch. It seemed to get harder the more she touched it. This fascinated her, especially when Ramsay groaned. _Perhaps I could control him this way…_ she thought, pulling on his semi erect cock. She curiously touched his balls. That action enticed another small moan from him. The sounds he made induced a wetness between her legs that she was most unfamiliar with.

"Enough of that." He said breaking through the haze of his pleasure. If she continued with that he would lose control and his wife would not like that. Of course, Ramsay certainly wouldn't object, he grew easily bored with 'love making' he much preferred to fuck, but he would indulge his wife just this once. He needed her to trust him. He wanted her trust. He wanted _her,_ completely and utterly. There was something about Elspeth Black that drew him in and not just the sweet curve of her body.

They continued late into the night. Even when dawn had broke across the sky.

 **I realise this chapter was pretty late… honestly I didn't even noticed that it's been days since I updated. But I would surely like to know what you think of this chapter!**

 **Until next time!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except obvious OC's. Everything else belongs to George. R. R. Martin.**

 **Author's Note: Thank you to the all the reader's follows/favourites and to** **all the reviews on the last chapter! Feel free to note any spelling mistakes.**

 **Many thanks to the reviewers-**

 _ **Scout out**_

 _ **Deductions-of-Sherlolly**_

 **Happy Reading!**

A very faint tinking noise awoke Elspeth from her light sleep and it wasn't Ramsay's soft snoring. Late as the hour was she found the faint noise strange. She got out from under the heavy sheets and Ramsay's arm that was carelessly strewn over her naked waist. It was cold, but Elspeth didn't mind she peered curiously out the window. She ached pleasantly still from Ramsay's imperative intimacy. Her room was quite high from the ground almost as if they were in one of the towers, which it very well could have been. The light flicker of torches could be seen on the walls that housed the guards on night duty. She could slightly make out their forms as they made their rounds on the wall.

Elspeth brushed it off that the noises could have come from them. But as she was about to turn away from the glass of the window, a flicker of movement and the glint of armour caught her eye. At first Elspeth hadn't realised it but there were people climbing the walls. It was only when one of the figures pushed one of the Bolton's men against the said stone walls, then moments later he fell to the ground did she realise that they weren't friendly. Even from here the sigil that was presented proudly on their dark armour could easily be seen. In a panic she scrambled over to the bed where Ramsay lay. She shook him desperately awake. She didn't want to die.

"My lord! Ramsay!" she shook his arm in an attempt to wake him. He awoke with a violent start. His eyes gleamed in the darkness.

" _What?_ This had better be important. _"_ he seethed dangerously, not at all pleased to be woken.

"There are people climbing over the walls. "Her voice held a note of rushed urgency. This seemed to snap him out of his sleepy stupor. He quickly became excited as not a second later he leaped out of bed and glanced out of the window, there was indeed foreign people where his guards should be. Ramsay hastily pulled his pants on along with his weapons belt that nursed his daggers. They weren't his valerian steel ones. He noticed Elspeth eye his old daggers.

"Far too good for Ironborn filth! And besides these ones are much more blunt." A sickening smile broke across his face. He marched to the door and threw it open.

"Bar the door. Don't let anyone in or I'm sure they would gladly have their way with you." he said smirking cruelly. Once he left the threshold I slammed the door shut and did as he said. All I could do was wait. It would be close up combat, she was only useful with a bow. The risk wasn't worth it, though Ramsay was confident of massacring them. She would not deny him his fun.

…

Ramsay appeared in a ridiculously good mood when he arrived late at breakfast the next morning and to be perfectly honest with herself it scared her somewhat more so than anything. How could someone love killing so much? But she decided to look past it. She had no other choice but to live with it. Or die but that definitely wasn't an option. She should have felt degusted yet she didn't. Ramsay pulled the dark rosewood chair out from the table and sat beside me. Anyone could see the tired look in in Ramsay's eyes though he was still by far too wound up from the early hours of this morning. The shallow cuts on decorated him she knew but they were barely noticeable now.

" _Lovely_ morning!" he exclaimed smugly, glancing with a hint of suppressed gleeful mischievousness at everyone that sat at the table. Reek sniffled fearfully in the corner softly. Ramsay appeared very pleased since he returned to their bedchambers. Walda smiled at her step son and Roose ignored his antics entirely.

"You haven't touched your food." Roose stated in a deathly soft voice, though a mild coldness stained his expression like frostbite. The fact that he said anything was a great surprise to Elspeth. His pale eyes bore into his daughter-in-law. The similarity between Roose and his son's eyes was astonishing, very eerie.

"I was waiting for Ramsay, my lord." Elspeth replied harmoniously, not at all bothered by his intimidating gaze but she was wary of him, with good reason. Though now she had picked up her knife and fork and cut into her food, eggs and pork sausages. Her father always deemed it discourteous to start a meal without everyone present for a meal at the dinner table. Bastard or highborn, it didn't matter.

"How very _thoughtful_ of you, my love." Ramsay said through a mouthful of egg. I noted his ill manners disdainfully and said nothing. He was met with silence.

Ramsay continued to chew his food noisily. The temptation to tell him to shut his damn mouth became stronger to Elspeth. She felt rather nauseas. Her deathly pale fingers shook slightly as she reached for her goblet of wine. It tasted sweet on her tongue. The flavour rather enjoyable, though the aftertaste was as bitter as the cold wind outside. Elspeth was afraid to ask about the intruders. Dead bodies could be seen getting hauled into carts outside her window. Some bodies had even been flayed, they hung precariously from the walls like some sort of prize. Still this did not disturb Elspeth like it should have.

After everyone finished their breakfast Roose left without a single word and Ramsay trailed after him in almost the same fashion. Elspeth was left slightly shocked as she realised that Ramsay hadn't tried anything at the table. She didn't trust this change at all.

"Lady Elspeth would you care to join me for lunch today?" the fat little woman asked timidly. How could I refuse? It was either her or Ramsay. The former was by far a much more appealing choice.

"Of course, my lady! It would be a pleasure." I said almost charmingly. She smiled happily in response. Elspeth would never know how lonely Walda would get in this dreary place which once was filled with light and laughter.

…

Elspeth idly wondered if Walda knew any details about the attempted 'rescue endeavour'. She would soon find out as she made her way to some sort of parlour in what was once the library tower, though it had been restored now. She knocked twice on the heavy wooden door that led inside and entered. The handle felt strangely warm.

Elspeth looked up in awe of how many books she saw. Towers of them. She thought she would swoon for the first time in her life. Her eyes darted around until landing on Lady Bolton's rather large figure and made her way over to her. She caught a glimpse of Roose in a far corner of the library, away from his wife.

This should be interesting, Elspeth's thought before she shortly strayed back to all the books.

 **Hm any suggestions on anything you want to happen in this story? or if i can improve my writing in anyway? I'm open to ideas. Like to know what you think!**

 **Until next time.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except obvious OC's. Everything else belongs to George. R. R. Martin.**

 **Author's Note: Thank you to the all the reader's follows/favourites and to** **all the reviews on the last chapter! Feel free to note any spelling mistakes.**

 **Many thanks to the reviewers who gave feedback –**

I could see it so clearly now, I had made a mistake. The dear lady Walda was not naïve at all nor was she stupid though she was shy. Which I ignorantly mistook for stupidity. Which I found her shyness a rather charming attribute to her personality. Oh how foolish I have been. A poor judgement on my part. She cracked bawdy jokes that were actually rather witty and entertaining. I found myself enjoying her company immensely.

Walda popped another little sweet cake into her mouth. I smiled at her and took a small bite out of my own. I looked down at the table top where a pot of tea sat, honey cakes and every other sweet thing available. The smell of old books was unbelievably comforting to me. It was the oldest smell I knew. I had always been surrounded by books at home as a child. Especially when having a father that would have rather married his library.

"Did you hear the assailants last night?" I asked curiously, wanting to know if she knew any details or nothing at all. Judging but the alarm in her eyes she never had a clue.

"Oh you didn't know!" I asked surprised. This did come as a surprise, I wonder if Ramsay would had of told me if I hadn't seen them. Somehow I doubted it. Walda shook her furiously.

"No, I didn't. But they are dead now?" she asked worry lining her voice. I drew my teacup which held a smooth bitter tea to my lips before answering.

"Yes of course! Ramsay took care of it. At least I hope so, though I doubt I would be enjoying your company otherwise." I smiled as I relished the relieved grin that fluttered across her face. I glanced at Roose that seemed engrossed in whatever he was reading. He took notes occasionally, is quill made a scratching noise.

"I never knew there was a library here. Ramsay never really struck me as someone who read." I said taking another sip of tea.

"He isn't really. He takes interest in other _things._ Though my husband comes here often." She said eating another cake.

"He is a very intelligent man." I said smiling broadly. If only Ramsay shared the same joy for books. I signed dejectedly but for once since father left I had forgotten my loneliness.

…

Walda had offered to walk me to my chambers but politely refused. I didn't want her to exert herself especially now that she was pregnant. But then again the exercise would have been beneficial.

It was only now that Ramsay came walking towards me with a look in his eyes that would have made anyone's skin crawl, I wish I had not left the library at all or at the least had taken Walda up on her offer.

"My dear wife! I have a surprise for you." Ramsay exclaimed, roughly dragging me away from our chamber door. I struggled half-heartedly, there was something strange going on for sure. I especially didn't like the way he kept glancing me.

"No! Please." I begged weakly trying to pull my arm away from him as we began to descend the stairs leading to the very dungeons I dreaded so much. He became impatient when my struggles deterred him. He picked me up around the waist and walked at a much quicker pace. I attempted to get out of his grip but to no avail.

The further we proceeded into the dungeons the more the outline of a naked man could be seen on an x shape that held him tightly and securely.

"I will take the skin of our enemies." He whispered into my ear from his place behind me, his arms locking around me ensuring that I would not look away.

I could feel my wet tears trail quickly down my cheeks from my eyes. Ramsay looked as though he had returned from a hunt with a great prize. But he hadn't been hunting and this was a man not an animal. A sob broke free when he moved away from me and began to flay the young man's foot, which in turn howled with pain. His cries of mercy and agony moulded together as one. Someone held me their but I barely even noticed. The blood glistened on my husband's hands in the dim light of the flickering torches on the dungeon walls. I sank to my knees in despair. The hands around my arms letting me have that small action. As least I didn't try to run. Ramsay laughed madly in response to the man's pleas. His eyes came alight with a joy that was bone chilling. Ramsay flayed him limb by limb, I tried to look away but the man's agonised screams kept drawing my attention back until finally I couldn't look away. Even when his screams died down and his head slumped lifelessly forward, Ramsay continued to neatly carve up his skin. I felt as though I would be sick. I couldn't watch anymore. I became lightheaded. Whomever had held me in place to watch while Ramsay continued with his _ministrations_ let go off me when Ramsay turned his attention back to me _._

"Don't touch me! You ruin me." I cowered away into the corner that had loose cobwebs away from the monster that stood in front of me. Ramsay tried to touch me with his bloody hands. He was no man at all, only a monster with human skin. I covered my face with my hands hoping to shield the sight of him from my already ruined eyes. I couldn't bear to look at the thing I had married. He crouched down next to me and tucked a stray hair behind me ear. In another situating this would have been endearing.

"Perhaps I should remind you how you speak to your lord husband…" he breathed wetly into my ear. He made sure that I could feel him against my rear. He leant his head down and sucked gently on my pulse point. I squirmed, desperately trying to escape him but it was fruitless, and Ramsay was so much stronger than what I could ever hope to be. He dragged me from the cold floor regardless and shoved me over the table covered with all sorts of tools that only a twisted mind could imagine. Ramsay shoved them all to the floor and put me over the table top. He bunched my dress skirt into one of his hands and lifted them up over my hips. As punishment he untied his pants and viciously violated me by ramming his hips forward into me. I lost consciousness before he had finished. My last thought being I wanted to die.

 **Soo what do you guys think? Good? Bad? Needs attention? Let me know**

 **Until next time!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you to all the readers that stuck with this story! Honestly, I couldn't think of anything to write before now. Thanks for all the reviews/favourites/follows. You guys warm my heart tee hee.**

Coldness seeped from the stone floor, chilling my cheek to the bone. Ramsey had left me here with the man sobbing on the cross. A surge of pity ran through me at the sound of his weeping. Though I couldn't bring myself to get off the floor to help him let alone myself. Hours could have passed without my notice. I doubt it was that long since… a crushing sort of panic had washed over her. Keeping her body paralysed on the chilly floor. Her heart jolted as she heard them. She prayed it wasn't Ramsey.

Footsteps echoed off the walls as they trudged down the stairs. It was a much lighter foot fall than Ramsey's. Clenching my eyes shut, I waited for the person to go away. To my horror they only seemed to tread nearer and nearer.

…

Fat Walda sat with her dreadfully quiet husband. Both Ramsey and Elspeth were absent from the table, Walda chewed thoughtfully. She hoped Elspeth was ok wherever she was.

Suddenly the door to her right opened and in came Ramsey waltzed in. Lord Bolton looked up at his ill-fated son. A look of great pensiveness lined his face as he watched his son's display.

"Hello Mother! Father!" Ramsey glanced at both of them, sick amusement shone in his bright eyes. He happily shovelled onto his plate and eagerly took a sip of his wine. Or was it his father's cup.

"Where is your wife?" Roose asked sceptically, staring coldly at Ramsey. Ramsey appeared unaffected by his father.

"She wasn't feeling very well, so I imagine she's in her room." Ramsey replied after finishing a mouthful of food, a glint lit his eyes, a glint his father knew all too well and held no likeness towards it at all.

"Is that so." Was Roose's only response as Ramsey hurriedly finished his dinner and almost as quickly excused himself from the table.

…

The footsteps stopped just in front of her. A soundless whimper shuddered through her along with her panic. She was too sore to move.

"Shh – I'm not going to hurt you." The man said gruffly. Gently he pulled her to her feet. Her weight was nothing to him. Locke peered down at the woman. ' _She's even more beautiful up close.'_ He thought. He rather liked the feeling of her under his hands, but he was quick to remind himself that he had a job to do.

"Quickly. We have to go. He'll be back any moment." Locke whispered frantically. He pulled her along with him up the stairs. Her breath puffed out in the cold night air. With barely a pause to make sure there were no patrolling guards they continued to make a mad dash for the gates that led into the forest. The man turned towards her.

"You have to run! He won't stop until he kills you! You have to get away from here." Locke whispered urgently to her. He seemed so sincere in trying to help her. In her desperation, she believed him. If Ramsey could do _that_ to another person what would he do to her given the chance. There seemed no end to his sick imagination! There was so many endless possibilities. A shudder ran through her. And it wasn't because of the cold that bit at her. She didn't have warm enough clothing to be outside. She couldn't go back inside, _he_ would be in there. She had already made her decision. Irrational as it was.

"Thank you." Elspeth said to the man. She didn't know how she could repay him. She turned away from him and begin to run. Locke watched her run into the night. A chuckle escaped his lips at the thought of the fun the night would bring.

…

' _I shouldn't have run. I shouldn't have run.'_ Elspeth repeated the mantra in her head. A branch scratched along her cheek but she couldn't stop now. She felt cold. Colder than she's ever felt before. Her body felt numb and stiff from it. Her lungs burned in exertion, adrenaline coursed through her making her feel as though she could run forever. Not before long though she had to stop to catch her breath. What she heard next made her heart miss a beat. The howling and barking of hounds. Her heart picked up double in speed.

 **Tut tut Ramsey already has poor Elspeth running for the hills. Till next time!**


End file.
